Egyptian Heat
by meowmeowandotherhappythings
Summary: Were there beauty pageants in Ancient Egypt? I think there might have been...


**complete crack!fic... **

**i'm so sorry, i don't know how this happened**

**please don't hurt me**

**much love and pineapples **

**xx**

* * *

**Ancient Egypt:** _**Pharaoh's living quarters**_

When Pharaoh wanted something, there was very little that could be done. No matter how undignified, childish or outlandish the request, what Pharaoh wanted, Pharaoh got.

Even if what he wanted was to parade around in front of his loyal subjects in little more than lacy underwear and glittery eye shadow.

There was nothing even his most trusted and valued advisors could say to dissuade him from this new dream; pharaoh wanted to get in touch with his 'feminine side' so a beauty pageant it was. Possibly the first one to ever occur among the towering pyramids in the great, sandy wastelands of the Egyptian dessert.

**Great Pyramid of Giza: _three weeks later_**

Three weeks. It had taken three weeks to sort everything out. The music, the outfits, the stage and the make-up all had to be perfect. Not a grain of sand could be out of place.

The stage was set, the light was perfect for the 'edgy, sexy/drama' theme the Pharaoh had been set on and the Pharaoh was tucked away in his dressing room, being prepared for the first stages of the pageant. Everyone should have been prepared, ready to cheer on their great Pharaoh and bow down to his lacy heiny and yet…

'He wants a competitor!'

'A competition?'

'There is no-one who would dare compete with Pharaoh!'

'Why now? He couldn't have mentioned this three weeks ago?'

'A competition! By God, who in his right mind would get up on a stage like that in nothing more than underwear?'

'I can feel the mummies turning over in their tombs!'

The Pharaoh would not be satisfied being alone in his catwalk. No, he wished to take someone down with him. However, worshipped like a God as he was, there was no man brave enough to step forward to compete with a Pharaoh. Until, from the back of the room, a bearded man with a strong jaw-line raised his voice above the indignant chatter,

'I'll do it. I shall compete with Pharaoh in this beauty pageant.'

'Moses?!'

'Are you sure? You don't even have an outfit prepared!'

'Yes' said Moses, nodding solemnly, 'I am sure.'

And with that, he stripped his robe from his body, looping it between his legs and over one shoulder before tucking some large papyrus leaves into his hair and smothering his body in royal oils.

**The Egyptian Dessert: _the main stage_**

Just behind the large stone wall of the Pyramid, Pharaoh stood, peering around the corner, smirking at all of his loyal subjects who had come to witness his triumph of fashion.

He was not worried about losing. He was these peoples God; they would never turn against him, however, the lure of conquering even an insignificant ant in such an event made the Pharaoh's heart speed up a little in excitement.

The music started, the beat echoing heavily through the dry walls of the pyramids, the floating melody of the flutes dancing through the air like the wind through the reeds on the bank of the Nile. The Pharaoh took a deep breath, seeing his competition across the aisle from him, still hidden in shadow. He nodded and together they walked into the light.

Moses' breath caught in his throat. His heart raced and a delicious tingling spread through his core. In the purple twilight, the Pharaoh looked breathtaking. His black leather thong tight around his toned waist and twin sapphires glinting from his chest. Thick dark eyeliner stood out against his skin and his long, golden hair splayed out enticingly behind him as he strutted down the catwalk, twirling a heavy silver chain in one hand. The evening light cast long shadows, highlighting his defined muscles and his bronzed skin shone from a combination of perfumed oils and gathering sweat from the remaining heat of day.

Tearing his eyes away, Moses continued down the stage, swinging his hips as he went.

The Pharaoh swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry. Of course, he had seen Moses before and noted, with some admiration, how toned his muscles were. However, the sight of the man sauntering down the catwalk with the sun setting in the distance sent Pharaoh's levels of appreciation for Moses' body skyrocketing. His hastily thrown together outfit covered just enough of his body to leave the audience wanting more and the scented oils that glistened on his skin did an excellent job of sharpening the lines of his already chiseled physique.

With added spring in his step, the Pharaoh slunk his way closer to Moses as they continued on the long catwalk. Moses caught the Pharaoh's eye, giving him an obvious once over, causing the Pharaoh to shiver slightly and smirk.

Together, they reached the edge of the path. Surrounded on three sides by hollering Egyptians all holding banners and catcalling the two men, they paused their walk before Pharaoh winked at Moses, grabbing him around his waist and pulling him towards the Pharaoh's chest. Moses suppressed a startled yelp before relaxing into the feeling of the Pharaoh's hard chest pushing against his own.

Not to be outdone, Moses pushed back against the Pharaoh, putting enough space between them that he could place his hands on each of the Pharaoh's shoulders and slide his body sensually downwards until he was face to face with the Pharaoh's (hardening) crotch.

Above him and never breaking eye contact, the Pharaoh began gyrating his hips towards Moses, teasing him.

Suddenly Moses felt hands on either side of his face, pulling him firmly upwards until he was once again faceing the Pharaoh who spun so that his back was facing the other man and dropped to his knees, twirling and grinding, using Moses' body like a dancing pole.

The cheering catcalls grew louder and the Pharaoh and Moses both realized that they were getting carried away in front of so many people. They parted, chests heaving and respective thongs straining, before turning and strutting back towards the dressing rooms.

As they finally rounded the corner into the Pyramid, away from the swarming hoards of the public, the Pharaoh found himself suddenly pressed hard against the cold stonewall. One of Moses' hands found its way roughly into the Pharaoh's thong while the other came up next to his face, trapping him in place. The Pharaoh could feel Moses' hot, heavy breaths against his neck and cheek and couldn't help grinding down on the hand he found between his legs.

**Ancient Egypt: _Pharaoh's living quarters_**

'Oh, oh Pharaoh! Please, please don't stop! Pharaoh, baby! '

The Pharaoh abruptly stopped his ministrations, hovering over Moses' sweaty face.

'Pharaoh? Please, why did you stop? I need you so badly.'

The Pharaoh smirked wickedly,

'Its Mistress to you tonight Moses. After all, I'm the one with the leather.'


End file.
